


shirts

by buu



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-26
Updated: 2014-11-26
Packaged: 2018-02-27 02:24:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2675423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buu/pseuds/buu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hinata amasses a small collection, shirts stuffed under his pillow and in his dresser that he refuses to let his mom wash because the point is that they are Kageyama's, that they smell like him. Whenever they're dirty, he invites himself over to Kageyama's house, secretly drops them in the hamper, and steals them all over again next time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	shirts

**Author's Note:**

> i literally don't know what this is i'm sorry ^q^

The first time Hinata borrows Kageyama's clothes is when he sleeps over one night, in the fall. It's not the first time, strangely enough, maybe the third or fourth, but this is the first time he's unprepared, waking up after they both fall asleep on the floor, textbooks and papers spread in front of them. Kageyama offers for Hinata to stay over, voice low and grumbling like it's an inconvenience, but Hinata beams because he knows Kageyama wouldn't offer if he really minded.

He plans to sleep in his underwear, or something, it's no big deal really, they are both boys, but Kageyama insists that he borrow clothes because of the chill. If Hinata gets sick, he reasons, then both of their practice will falter, and Hinata grudgingly accepts the folded clothes held out to him. He has a brief image of Kageyama wearing them, of the pants sitting nicely on his hips and the shir fitting over his shoulders and his chest and hiding his stomach.

The clothes are huge. Not wide-huge but long-huge, hanging on Hinata's shoulders and past his thighs. The pants slide down his hips and bunch at the bottom, and he tells Kageyama that it's his fault for being freakishly tall, and Kageyama snaps back that it's Hinata's fault for being freakishly short. Still, the extra room makes the clothes nice and warm, and he's soon feeling cozy and sleepy curled up in the futon on the floor. It smells like Kageyama, baby powder (weird) and mint (weirder), and it's strange and off-putting at first, wearing clothes that smell like someone else, but he deals with it, and when he wakes up, toasty and smelling nice, he forgets that it had been weird in the first place.

Impromptu sleepovers happen more frequently after that, usually at Kageyama's where there's no little sister running around to bother them when they study. Kageyama's house is nice and quiet, his mom bakes pretty good cookies, and he likes the smell of Kageyama's shampoo, secretly. And each time, when he doesn't have any pajamas to wear, he borrows some of Kageyama's.

Sometimes it's old gym clothes, too small for Kageyama but still too big for Hinata (“I told you you're freakishly short”), sometimes it's old sweaters, sometimes it's one of Kageyama's favorite t-shirts Hinata sneaks out of his closet when he's in the bath. Kageyama grumbles about it, telling Hinata just to leave a pair of clothes at his house already since this happens so often, but Hinata sticks his tongue out and buries his face in the fabric of Kageyama's shirts. It makes him feel warm and good, and he's getting used to this smell on him when he sleeps, likes the feeling of wearing something that Kageyama has worn. Sometimes, weirdly, he gets an image in his head of what Kageyama looks like wearing these, and it makes his stomach jump and flutter.

Somewhere along the way, Hinata starts sneaking them. He “forgets” to return them when he borrows them over the weekend, sneaks them into his bag when he's leaving, pretends to not have a change of clothes so he can wear them home and promise to return them later...sometime. They're all old clothes, at first, so Kageyama doesn't really notice, forgets easily that he's lent Hinata some of his too-small shirts because he doesn't care if he gets them back.

Hinata amasses a small collection, shirts stuffed under his pillow and in his dresser that he refuses to let his mom wash because the point is that they are Kageyama's, that they smell like him. Whenever they're dirty, he invites himself over to Kageyama's house, secretly drops them in the hamper, and steals them all over again next time.

He thinks he's very discreet about it, and he is. Kageyama says nothing, knows nothing because only Hinata wears those old clothes he doesn't care about anymore, and Hinata wears them at his house, on the weekends, or to bed. If his mom notices, which she probably does as the one in charge of laundry, she doesn't mention it.

Xxx

It's inevitable that he slips up. He lasts a while, repeating his cycle of borrowing and returning and borrowing again, until, one day, Kageyama invites him suddenly to hang out at the park together. Hinata's out the door before his mother can remind him to put on a coat, ignoring that it's a little chilly outside and hopping on his bike to try and beat Kageyama there.

Kageyama's panting by a bench when he gets there, lifting his head and flashing a menacing grin because he knows he's won, must have texted Hinata already halfway there, the bastard, and Hinata huffs and slides off his bike. He parks it, stretches his arms over his head, and hops over to where Kageyama's leaned back against the bench.

They're talking about nothing in particular, Kageyama sharing cookies he's brought from home and Hinata moving his hands up and down his arms to ignore the chill, when Kageyama pauses mid-sentence, trailing off. Hinata looks at him, sees Kageyama's eyes focusing on his shirt—had he spilled something? Hinata looks down, doesn't see anything strange.

The exact moment he realizes is when Kageyama opens his mouth. “Is that my shirt?”

Hinata wants to say no, of course not, feels his blood stop moving because he's been caught doing something that he secretly knows is kind of weird. He opens his mouth and closes it, realizing it's pretty useless to lie that it isn't when it's too big on him, and all the rest of his shirts fit just fine.

“Um, maybe? I just threw on whatever, you know...” Hinata waves his hand, hoping he looks nonchalant while he's sweating in this too-big, Kageyama-smelling shirt.

The way Kageyama looks at him makes his heart lurch, because he knows he's been found out, he knows that Kageyama knows, he knows that he is going to die right here of embarrassment that he's wearing his friend's shirt for no real reason other than the fact that he likes to, that it makes him feel warm and it smells good. 

He's sure Kageyama is going to snap at him, demand he give it back. It's for that reason, among others, that Hinata is surprised when Kageyama does nothing, just tilts his head with an unreadable expression.

“How many of my shirts do you have?” he asks, suddenly, and Hinata feels himself shriveling under that stare. He hunches his shoulders in a half-shrug that never makes it all the way back down.

“I dunno.” It's useless to lie, because the way Kageyama looks tells Hinata that he knows. “You noticed?”

“Of course I noticed, dumbass. You think I wouldn't notice shirts that had gone missing suddenly reappearing in my hamper? Are you stupid?” His words are harsh, but the tone of his voice is not. Hinata watches as Kageyama looks away, like he's the one who should be embarrassed. “Why do you think I kept offering them to you?”

“You what?” Hinata blinks, completely forgetting that he's been caught wearing one of Kageyama's shirts. “What do you mean? Of course you did, I didn't have anything to wear!”

“Are you an idiot?” Kageyama snaps, locking eyes. “You've left like, five shirts at my house. You seriously didn't know?”

Hinata vaguely remembers not being able to find a few of his shirts at home, passed it off as them getting lost in the mess of his room, shoved into a drawer somewhere in attempted cleanup and left there. “No,” he says, surprised. “You're not mad that I stole your shirts?”

Kageyama shrugs, doesn't say no, but he doesn't say yes, either, which automatically means he's not mad. When Kageyama is mad, Hinata doesn't even need to ask. “They look better on you than they do on me,” he says, voice rough, like he needs to clear his throat.

Looking down at the shirt he's still wearing, Hinata feels himself get warm, thinks about Kageyama seeing him in his shirts and thinking it looks good. He's actually seen Kageyama wearing this one, knows what it looks like when it's properly fitted on wider shoulders, a slim waist and a little too big.

“It looks better on you,” Hinata says, blurts out absently, not really thinking as he does so until the words are out and Kageyama's staring at him, eyes wide. Hinata thinks that's the first time he's ever commented on the way Kageyama looks, although he's thought it to himself before, thought about the way Kageyama's graceful when he's on the court, stretch of his legs and the sway of his body.

They stare at each other. Hinata feels something warm in his stomach as it drops like he's on a rollercoaster, and he doesn't really understand what's going on. He's hyper aware of Kageyama in front of him, of the fact that he can smell Kageyama on his skin, that he's calm when he breathes it in at night and thinks about what Kageyama looks like when he's sleeping. This is weird, he thinks.

“You smell nice,” is what he says.

“You smell nicer,” Kageyma replies, narrowing his eyes like it's some sort of challenge. Hinata watches the color bleed over his cheeks, looks at the shirt Kageyama's wearing and suddenly recognizes it as one he's worn before, to bed when he'd stayed the night.

He points. “I wore that.”

“...yeah.” Kageyama looks away, suddenly, shoves his hands in his pockets. “Do you want to spend the night?”

Hinata says yes.

The entire way back to Kageyama's is quiet, Hinata stealing glances at Kageyama only to find Kageyama stealing glances at him.

Xxx

This is the first time they haven't slept in separate beds. Hinata doesn't know what's happening at first, watches, puzzled, as Kageyama throws back the covers and climbs in. He's about to remind him about the futon, call him an idiot for forgetting that he's staying the night, when Kageyama looks away.

“Get in.”

At first, Hinata thinks maybe he's already fallen asleep, because he has before, in the middle of studying or watching a movie together. He feels weirdly exposed in the big shirt Kageyama had handed him wordlessly, one he wears regularly (Hinata knows, he remembers almost each and every time he's seen Kageyama in it), but the hand on his arm tugging him to the mattress is alarmingly real.

He lands on the bed with an “oof”, and it smells like Kageyama. Of course it does, he sleeps here, but it's hitting Hinata now that he's supposed to sleep here, too. He doesn't mind sharing beds with people, and he and Kageyama have been pretty close to doing so during training camps, when Hinata rolls all over the place, but this is different. Kageyama is willfully tugging Hinata into his bed and if he's not careful, his mind could possibly maybe conjure up situations he definitely has not thought about before, much.

Kageyama doesn't bother waiting for Hinata to right himself, just crawls under the blankets and scowls. “Do you want to sleep or not?” he asks, gruff, and then Hinata's scrambling to join him under the covers because yes, he does, he really, really does want to sleep (here, with Kageyama). It's overwhelming, almost, when the blankets are pulled over him and he's surrounded by things that have been on Kageyma, his too-big shirt, these sheets that he sleeps in, and his stomach lurches the way it does before a big game.

“Kageyama?” he asks, suddenly, when they're both lying side-by-side in the dark. He thinks Kageyama might be asleep, because he is perfectly still, hopes he is.

“What?” Kageyama's voice floats over to him in the dark. “Having second thoughts?”

Hinata doesn't know what he means by that; is he having second thoughts about sharing a bed? Wearing his clothes? Something else Hinata doesn't know if he really wants to name? It feels like there's a wall between them, dark and stifling, and he doesn't like it, but he's scared to admit that his stupid shirt-stealing is part of it.

“No,” Hinata says, after a minute. “Sorry about your shirts.” He is well-aware that he's still wearing one, despite apparently having spares at Kageyama's house.

“I told you I don't care, dumbass. It's...I mean...I—I don't mind it. You can keep doing it.” He sounds like he's trying to keep his voice steady while he grants permission, pretending he's being very generous about it.

“In public” Hinata slides his legs together under the sheets, jerking away when one of them bumps against Kageyama's.

There's a rustling, like maybe Kageyama is nodding, and Hinata turns his head to look before Kageyama responds, “Yeah.”

“Forever?”

“Shut the fuck up and go to sleep, stupid.” Kageyama's voice is tight with embarrassment as he turns over, back to Hinata. Hinata's eyes have adjusted to the dark enough to see the inky black of his hair, and he suddenly wants to reach out and touch it, but maybe that would be weird when they're sharing a bed like this, while his head is on the pillow Kageyama sleeps against every night. His hand seems to have other plans, is already halfway reached out before he manages to stop it and divert it.

Hinata feels his hand slide against fabric clinging to Kageyama's back. It's flat and warm, and he can feel a heartbeat beneath it. It feels quick, and Hinata absently brings a hand up to his own chest, pressing it over his heart. Kageyama's wearing a shirt Hinata knows he has worn before, and for some reason his heart lurches at that, speeds up, and Kageyama still is not moving away despite the tenseness in his muscles.

“Kageyama,” he says, voice hushed. He feels the muscles in Kageyama's back twitch under his hand, under his shirt. Kageyama is warm next to him. “Hey.”

Slowly, Kageyama turns himself around until he's facing Hinata, and Hinata's almost breathless at how close they are like this. There's no height difference now, they're staring at each other, and Hinata can make out Kageyama's lashes in the darkness, barely. He follows his eyes to his nose, down to his mouth, and then where his neck disappears into his shirt collar.

Kageyama has been willingly letting Hinata steal his shirts. He's been enabling it, handing off new ones when Hinata needed them, not bothering to mention that Hinata technically already had something to sleep in. Somewhere along the line, Hinata had even started coming over without a change of clothes, wearing Kageyama's to bed instead. He wonders if Kageyama thought about it, thought about the clothes hanging on Hinata's shoulders. The fluttering in his stomach says yes, he has, he had to have, and it's that fluttering that pushes Hinata forward, has him fisting his hand in the collar of Kageyama's shirt and pressing their lips together.

It smells nice. Kageyama's breath is mint toothpaste when it exhales against Hinata's face as he pulls back. His lips were warm, and when Kageyama makes no move to shove him away, to ask what he's doing, Hinata goes in again. It's strange, feeling someone else's lips against his, a warm softness that he's never felt before and honestly hadn't expected Kageyama's to feel like, not that he'd thought about it much.

“Is that okay?” he asks, a little breathless when he pulls back the second time. This close, he can see Kageyama open his mouth, close it and then nod, once, twice, three times before Hinata presses their mouths together again.

The blankets are warm around them and Kageyama's legs brush agains his own, and it Hinata doesn't know why he hasn't done this before. Kageyama tastes even better than he smells.

He wakes up half on top of Kageyama, one of the taller boy's arms curled around him and the other flung up by his head, fingers curled, and the warm feeling in his stomach is only rivaled by the warmth of Kageyama's skin seeping through his clothes.

Xxx

Hinata doesn't bother to hide it anymore, pulling on Kageyama's shirts when he wants to, picking and choosing what he feels like wearing while Kageyama lies on his stomach on the floor, flipping through math worksheets and gritting his teeth at the problems. He offers to let Kageyama borrow his, once, and insists when Kageyama refuses until they're both struggling to get Kageyama out of the too-tight cotton and Hinata is trying (failing) not to laugh. Hinata kisses him after to make up for it, because that's a thing he can do now, too.

He can also crawl into bed with Kageyama, curl up against his side or his chest or his back or wherever he wants, really, and only meets minimal grunting and grumbling if Kageyama's comfortable or half-asleep. 

Kageyama even lets him wear his jackets, sometimes, his volleyball sweater, hanging low over Hinata's fingers so that he has to roll it up. Hinata forgets he's wearing it when they walk into the gym, bickering about what's better, red candy or green candy, and if anyone notices anything, they stay respectfully quiet.

This does mean, though, that more of Kageyama's shirts go missing, tucked underneath Hinata's pillow for nights when he can't sleep, folded in his drawer so his mom doesn't ask where these shirts two sizes too big for him have come from. It means Kageyama looking away from him, face red, when Hinata hops out of the bath fresh and clean, smelling like Kageyama's baby shampoo and wearing nothing but Kageyama's shirt.

If Hinata knew that this would lead to waking up, cozy and warm, half on top of Kageyama, would lead to being able to kiss Kageyama on his back on the bed, Kageyama's fingers slipping underneath the too-loose shirts, Hinata would have admitted to swiping a few of them a little sooner.


End file.
